


World On Fire

by WakingDreams



Series: Winter Tales [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Bedroom Sex, Complete, F/M, One Shot, Season 8 Rewrite, The Long Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22820044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakingDreams/pseuds/WakingDreams
Summary: The battle of the Long Night has begun and the world is on fire in every single way.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Winter Tales [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640449
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	World On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I just own this fanfiction. All characters belong to George R.R. Martin and Co. No infringement intended. Some dialogue has been taken from 8x04. This story is a sequel to Edge Of Tomorrow and Part 2 in the Winter Tales series. It is my way of dealing with what actually went down in Season 8. Banner artwork is made by me.

The night was dark and full of terrors and it seemed like the world was on fire. Everything had been reduced to endless screams, pain, death and destruction. Those who had not fallen in battle yet desperately clung to any remaining thread of hope and kept fighting to stay alive. Brienne of Tarth stood on one of the walls of Winterfell and swung her sword Oathkeeper, doing her best to see through a thick haze of ash and smoke and beat back the massive army of White Walkers and Wights that seemed to grow in numbers by the minute while their own were quickly diminishing. Every now and then, her shoulders or back would bump against Jaime Lannister’s, a steady reassurance that he was still fighting by her side. It was almost poetic in a way – their twin swords engulfed in silvery blue flames as they slashed through their enemies and turned them to ash while their bodies moved in perfect sync as if it was all a well coordinated dance not them fighting for their lives and trying to save the world as they knew it.

Brienne could not recall when their swords had caught fire and had briefly wondered what might have caused it but in the end, it did not matter. Nothing did but the will to keep these fires burning for if they died, so would she and Jaime, Brienne was certain of that.

She could feel that Jaime was not by her side any longer and her heart beat frantically against her chest when she heard him scream through the smoke surrounding her.

“Jaime!” she yelled, following his screams and slashing through new legions of undead crawling up the walls on the way. After what felt like an eternity to her, she finally reached him and was relieved to find the silvery blue flames of his sword Widow’s Wail were still burning, although not as brightly as before.

With a fierce battle cry, she cut through Jaime’s attackers until they crumbled into a pile of ash before her.

Jaime looked at her with a mix of awe and appreciation on his handsome face. “That was a close one,” he said, coughing. “I fear whatever strength is left in these old battle-ridden bones and muscles of mine, is leaving me.”

“Stay by my side,” Brienne returned, her voice commanding. “I am not losing you.”

Jaime’s lips curved into a half-smile. “Aye, Commander.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Piss off.”

Jaime let out a rumbling laugh in response that warmed her from within. “Look out!” he called out then, shoving her aside to let his sword sink into the chest of another attacker at Brienne’s back.

“There are too many of them,” he turned to Brienne. “Where one falls another one will take its place. They will push us back until they have trapped us and no one’s going to save us from there.”

“Someone will,” Brienne stated determinedly. “We just have to have faith in that and hold on a little longer.”

Jaime nodded. “Alright.”

Brienne mirrored him. “Good.” She grabbed him by one shoulder, urging him to follow her and keep fighting their enemies and so he did.

* * *

When the smoke finally cleared and their enemies had dropped dead at their feet mingling with the dead bodies of their own people, Brienne released a shuddering breath she had held for far too long and reached for Jaime’s golden hand, the only part of him she could get a hold of in the semidarkness. The metal felt icy cold against her skin and made her long for warmth and the reassurance that they were still alive for their swords’ flames had died.

She was nothing short of crying with relief when Jaime covered her hand with his good hand and its warmth seeped into her, letting her know that they had indeed made it out alive unlike so many of their comrades.

“We survived,” she said with wonder.

“Or so it seems, Ser Brienne,” Jaime returned, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Where’s Pod?” she asked, looking out for her brave loyal squire. 

“Right here, Ser!” Podrick Payne called out next to Jaime, allaying another one of Brienne’s fears.

“We should move,” she declared, trying to keep her voice steady.

Now that the battle was over, they would have to separate the wounded from the dead and give those who had fallen in battle a proper burial.

First Brienne would try to find Lady Sansa though, eager to dispel her last fear of having failed to protect her and fulfill her oath to Lady Catelyn.

* * *

  
It felt like a weight was lifted off Brienne’s heart once she was sure that everyone she held dear had survived the battle of the Long Night while so many others had not.

She stood next to Jaime and watched the funeral pyres burn, her face revealing no emotion whatsoever. With every battle, there would be prices to pay, innocents losing their lives for the sake of wealth and power of others. They may have won this battle but the fight for the iron throne would replace this one soon enough. Brienne felt weary and tired, like all energy had seeped from her body.

Lady Sansa announced there would be a feast to celebrate the victory over the Night King and his army of White Walkers and Wights and to honor those who had fought bravely but lost their lives.

Brienne did not feel like celebrating. She only wanted to retreat to her chambers and scrub the dirt and grime off her skin so she turned to leave Jaime’s side.

A firm grip on her arm held her back. “Brienne.” Her name left Jaime’s lips in a voice far less firm than his grip. “Will I see you at the feast?”

There was a hopeful look in his eyes that did not go unnoticed by her. “We will see about that,” Brienne replied vaguely, not wanting to crush his hopes but not wanting to lie to him either. 

“I hope that’s a yes,” Jaime said, letting go of her arm. “I would hate to celebrate without my Commander.”

Brienne nodded and quickly made her way back towards the castle and the safety of its walls. Her heart beat quickly as she hurried along seemingly endless corridors to get to her chambers, remembering how Jaime had backed her against one of these walls earlier and kissed her as if their lives depended on it just like she had kissed him in return. She ran her fingertips over her lips, the memory of his mouth on hers hitting her like waves crashing on the cliffs of Tarth.

She sighed with relief when she finally reached her chambers and her eyes widened upon realizing someone – probably Lady Sansa – had a bath prepared for her. The water had just the right temperature when Brienne dipped a hand into it and the calming scent of lavender filled the room. She shed her armor and clothes as fast as her weary bones would allow it and hissed with a mix of pain and pleasure when her naked body finally sank into the hot water.

She picked up a brush and started scrubbing away the blood, gore, and dust that caked her skin, hoping she would be able to erase any memories of the battle with it.

* * *

Brienne did not know how much time had passed since she had started to take a bath. It felt like she had lost track of time somewhere along the way. The water had long turned cold, a muddy shade of brown with traces of red mixed in, and the scent of lavender could not mask the stench of blood and mud any longer. Brienne wondered if she would ever feel clean again as she kept scrubbing at her skin. The door to her chambers opened with a soft creak and she had to resist the urge to jump out of the bathtub when footsteps on the stone floor announced a visitor.

“Come back later!” she called, wrapping her arms around herself in a meager attempt at covering her nudity. “I’m taking a bath.”

“Oh I can see that, Ser Brienne,” an all too familiar voice could be heard from the doorway. “If you scrub any harder, your skin might come off.”

“Jaime.” Brienne heaved a weary sigh. “Has no one ever taught you to knock before entering another person’s private chambers?”

“I knocked. Several times actually,” he returned, shrugging. “You refused to answer, that’s all. You can hardly blame me for being worried about you. I’ve missed you at the feast.”

Brienne’s shoulders tightened. The bloody feast. She must have been soaking in that bathtub for even longer than she had suspected. “I can assure you I’m in no imminent danger of fainting and drowning in a bathtub if that’s what you’re afraid of,” she turned to him, picking up the brush she had dropped into the water again to continue to scrub her back until the skin turned a crimson shade.

“But you will look like a bloody Bolton flayed you if you continue like that.” Jaime shook his head and rushed to her side, ignoring her immediate protest when he wrested the brush from her grip. He flung it out of reach and replaced it with a washcloth.

Brienne opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water in silent objection when Jaime dipped the washcloth into the bathwater to continue washing her back. A soft blush crept over her skin, making her freckles stand out more than usual as she wrapped her arms even tighter around her body.

“No need for false modesty,” Jaime commented on that. “It’s not like you were trying to hide anything I haven’t laid eyes on before.”

Brienne huffed in response, making him chuckle.

“For all the times you washed me in the Riverlands who would have thought I would get to return the favor one day?” Jaime’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles as he kept rubbing the washcloth along her back in slow soothing circular motions.

“Who would have thought I would ever let you?” Brienne countered, arching a single eyebrow.

“Well let’s just agree that I’m a lucky man for I’ve been dreaming of you like this since Harrenhal and all the countless ways I would touch and make love to you if you’d ever let me.”

Brienne’s eyes widened, her blush intensifying. “Since Harrenhal?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Jaime nodded and dropped the washcloth into the water to touch his hand to her face. “So much wasted time, Brienne.”

Brienne closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “It’s never truly wasted if it led us here to this very moment.”

Jaime hummed a laugh and leaned in to press his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. “I have wanted you for so long, Brienne. Gods, I want you so much it hurts.”

Brienne smiled softly against his lips. “Take me to bed then,” she whispered. “I’m yours.”

* * *

Before long, it felt like her world was on fire again. Jaime’s lips and left hand were roaming her body, making her arch and thrash against him, panting and wanting more. Her only anchor were her hands gripping the furs at her back and Jaime’s fake golden hand at her hip holding her down, the metal cold against her overheated skin.

Brienne drew in a shuddering breath as Jaime touched the marred flesh of the scars the bear had left on her neck, feeling the partial roughness of her otherwise soft skin beneath his fingertips. She moaned when his thumb brushed over one of her already hardened nipples. His head dipped to her neck, needing to not only touch, but also taste more of her.

Brienne needed him to give her what no one else in the world could—comfort and most of all love, the most powerful weapon against pain and death. She ached to feel his mouth on hers, his hands on her body, his skin brushing against hers, taking away the lingering fear of dying, making her forget. Not just this once, but always, for as long as they might have left. Her body squirmed beneath him while he paid proper attention to her breasts, alternating between light biting and hard sucking, teasing her peaks to a near-impossible hardness. 

Jaime could feel her fingernails dig into his back even through the fabric of his leather doublet and tunic. He was still fully dressed, looking golden and glorious in the firelight and smelling fresh, and clean from his own bath earlier.

“Inside”, she gasped in between unintelligible sounds. “I want to feel you inside me.” 

“No.” He shook his head and took a hold of her hands, pinning them to her sides before they could dip down below his waistline to his painfully straining erection. “You aren’t ready yet.” 

Brienne did not ask what he meant by that. She was too busy shuddering in response to what Jaime was making her feel to form any coherent thought. She writhed against his tongue as he left a trail from between her breasts down to her belly, brushing scars along the way and tracing a circle around her navel. He stabbed his tongue softly into it, and she arched upwards again with a cry.

“Jaime. Please.” 

“Soon. I want you to be ready.” 

Brienne started to wonder if a person could actually die from too much pleasure as Jaime continued his assault on her senses. He kissed her between her legs and the sensation shot through her like wildfire in her veins. When Jaime began to caress her with his tongue, Brienne groaned and dug her fingers into the furs. He was darting it in and out and then sucking her swollen nub gently until she thought she would go crazy.

Brienne wiggled her hips and whimpered again. She could not take much more of this. He seemed to know exactly how to bring her to an excruciatingly sweet climax. Unable to control herself, she let go of the furs and grasped him hard by the shoulders. His tongue increased its pressure, rolling around her until finally – mercifully - she came in a burst of light behind closed eyelids, her body convulsing with the intensity of it.

As soon as Jaime felt Brienne relax, he slowly and carefully moved up her body again to kiss her long and deep on the mouth, making her taste herself on his tongue until they were both trembling and gasping for air. When he pulled away from her lips, it was to ask “How do you feel?”

Brienne slowly lifted her eyelids, her dazed gaze meeting his as he looked steadily at her. “I feel…like there’s only you and me in this world.”

Jaime’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Good. Now you’re ready.” He retreated from her warmth and got to his feet to shed his clothes as fast as he could manage with one hand.

When he was as naked as she was, he crawled back into bed with her, a deep groan vibrating through him as he ever so slowly lowered himself into her and she took him deep into her silken softness until they were joined completely. Brienne squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back, a strangled sound escaping her lips at the foreign powerful sensation of him inside her. She wrapped her long legs around him to pull him closer still, needing to feel his love, his _life_.

“Brienne,” Jaime muttered against her neck. “Look at me.”

Brienne forced her eyes back open to meet his gaze as he began to thrust, slowly at first with long strokes, then picking up the pace, soon feeling her muscles contract around him given that she was still incredibly sensitive from her first orgasm. Brienne scraped her nails along Jaime’s back and chest, relishing in the feel of his muscles and strength. The low, guttural sound of passion he made deep in his throat in response was music to her ears.

Jaime ran his hand down her sides, from breasts to hips, looking into her eyes, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her lips. His eyes were dilated and dark with passion when he lowered his head to her breast, his mouth again seeking her nipple and sucking greedily for a moment before swirling his tongue around it and repeating the action on the other side.

  
Her walls clenched around him tighter than ever before, telling him she was close to climaxing a second time. Jaime’s thrusts became deeper again, making Brienne feel as though she would explode. The pleasure became unbearable for both of them and when Brienne began to cry out, Jaime covered her mouth with his, joining with her completely for a moment before they reached their peak together and he spilled his seed on her stomach. 

He slowly brought her back to earth with sweet whispered words of love and she relaxed against him, limp and totally lost in the sensations. 

Finally, he rolled onto his back with her in his arms, pulling the furs over them both and holding her tight as their breathing returned to normal. Jaime pressed kisses along her hairline and upon her temple as Brienne closed her eyes, basking in the tenderness of the moment. For the first time in ages she felt truly relaxed, her mind void of any thoughts other than the feel of his fingers on her skin as he ran them up and down her spine, drawing a small circle at the small of her back.

Brienne wished they could stay like this forever and that she would never have to leave the safety of his arms, protected from the cruel world outside and without the fear of losing their lives in the line of honor and duty. She knew it was a fool’s dream though, a happily ever after in a bubble that would burst all too soon. 

* * *

Weeks went by like water rushing down a stream and their lives became more entwined with each passing day. There were nights and early morning hours of sweet love and passion when they would learn what their bodies desired. Brienne quickly discovered that Jaime liked it when she was on top, straddling him and pressing him down into the mattress with her weight with his cock buried deep inside her. He knew that nothing made her come faster and harder than his mouth on her cunt and him sucking on her tender flesh and humming into her skin until she was falling apart and crying out his name. She would return the favor sometimes and there were mornings he would wake to her stroking him and taking him into her mouth until she had reduced him to a whimpering mess begging for more.

They never talked of love as if they were afraid it would make the bubble they had created around themselves burst but he would tell her how every time he looked into her eyes he felt like a drowning man who never wanted to come back to the surface. She let him know that she had always thought him the most handsome man in all of the seven kingdoms which sent his ego into orbit for a day or two, almost making her regret she had ever said it.

Some nights they would just hold each other and share childhood memories. Jaime never talked about Cersei but there were nights when he was tossing and turning in the sheets and her name would fall from his lips in a whimper and he would wake soaked in sweat and trembling. Brienne would pretend she was asleep whenever he retreated from her side and got dressed to roam the castle or go on endless walks. Some nights his breath would smell of wine or ale when he returned to the warmth and comfort of her arms, others he was freezing cold from the icy winds of winter. She never asked where he went or what thoughts were troubling his mind, willing herself to think it did not matter as long as he came back to her.

Until one night, Brienne knew he would not if she did not go after him and find a way to keep him by her side somehow. King’s Landing was about to fall and the bubble had burst.

She caught up with Jaime in the courtyard and found him readying his black palfrey. The icy winds of winter chilled her to the bones as she stood before him in her dark housecoat but nothing could have been more painful than the realization that he was indeed planning to leave her for his vile golden twin in a desperate attempt to save her from getting killed one way or another. Brienne stood frozen in silence for a moment, looking at him. He would not even look at her in return. 

“They’re going to destroy that city,” she said, approaching him and his horse. “You know they will.”

“Have you ever run away from a fight?” he asked, still not looking at her.

She bridged the last gap between them and grabbed his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “This isn’t just a fight, Jaime. It’s suicide and you know it. You can’t save your sister.”

Jaime swallowed hard, his good gloved hand reaching for one of hers still resting at his face, his thumb gently brushing over her wrist before he pried her hand away. “I can try.” He paused for a second before he continued. “She said she was carrying our child and I have no reason to believe otherwise.”

His words felt like a punch to the gut for Brienne. She took a deep breath, releasing him from her grip. “Oh of course not since your sister is known for her credibility.”

“It doesn’t really matter if she’s lying or not at this point, Brienne,” he said. “She’s still my sister. We came into this world together and once swore to each other we would leave it together. I intend to keep-“

“Don’t.” Brienne bit back tears threatening to cloud her vision. “If that promise to her weighs more than all the good things we’ve shared, you’re a bloody fool, Jaime Lannister.”

Jaime shrugged. “Possibly. All the more reason why you should let me go. I told you once you deserve better than me.” He turned to leave, one foot already in the stirrup.

“You deserve better than dying with your sister,” Brienne told him, her arms wrapped around her tall frame in a self-protective way. “I won’t have it.”

His lips twisted into a sardonic smile she had last seen on him in the Riverlands as he swung himself into the saddle and spurred his horse on. He looked back at her over his shoulder one last time before his horse fell into a gallop. “You are welcome to stop me if it pleases you.”

Then he was gone. Brienne shivered and the tears she had desperately held back until then finally made their way down her pale cheeks. “I will.”

And so she did.

Jaime had not ridden far when he heard the sound of rapid hoof beats behind him. He took a deep breath. Stubborn woman. He turned around in the saddle to face Brienne on horseback, looking all pale and magnificent in the moonlight, her housecoat fluttering in the wind as she clung to her horse without a saddle, her long legs pressed firmly against the horse’s flanks and her hands gripping its mane. “She looks like the Warrior personified,” he thought to himself in silent wonder before she reached him and grabbed him by his leather doublet, pulling him off his horse and causing him to land on the frozen ground with a dull thud.

He groaned in pain, watching as she jumped off her own horse and came to stand over him, her expression a mix of worry and grimness. “I think you may have broken a rib,” he said coughing. “Why couldn’t you just let me go, Brienne?”

Brienne could detect a fair amount of despair and fear for his sister’s life in his emerald green eyes and it tugged at her heart a little. She drew a shuddering breath and sank to her knees next to him on the cold frozen ground before she spoke.  
  
“Broken bones mend but there’s nothing more hateful than failing to protect the one you love.”


End file.
